Losing You
by Agent Elisa
Summary: What Hermione *really* saw the boggart turn to...


TITLE: Losing You  
AUTHOR: Agent Elisa  
DISCLAIMER: I am by no means claiming to own  
the characters used in here; they belong to   
J.K Rowling. No money are made from this fic  
which is written entirely for my own and your   
entertainment. So don't bother calling the  
Ministry of Magic just yet... :)  
RATED: G (if you're not deadly afraid of  
Voldemort - sorry, Ron - You-Know-Who!)  
KEYWORDS: Harry/Hermione romance  
ARCHIVE: 'Course!  
SPOILERS: Chapter sixteen in 'Harry Potter  
and the Prisoner of Azkaban', 'Professor  
Trelawney's Prediction'.  
NOTE: I don't know if this has been done already,  
with the Hermione-boggart-track, but I want you  
to know that any similarities with other stories  
are entirely coincindential.  
SUMMARY: What Hermione *really* saw the boggart  
turn to...  
  
**LOSING YOU**  
By Agent Elisa  
(agent_elisa@hotmail.com)  
  
She stood alone in the darkness, surrounded by a strange  
kind of fog, thick and swirling like smoke.  
The whiteness clouded her tired eyes, and they seemed to   
have been looking for something not visible a   
bit too long, because they ached almost as much as her head.  
This made her dizzy; her blurred vision, the pounding pain  
in her temples which screamed for her to give in, surrender,  
give up, stop searching.  
But she couldn't stop searching. Not now. She was too close -  
although exactly what she was close to was still a mystery  
to her.  
She didn't know for how long this quest had been going. It could  
be a minute, a day, a year. Obviously, no such phenomenons   
as time patterns existed here.   
But were was here?  
A cold place. So cold and strange that a horrible thought came  
creeping into her mind. Though she tried her best to push it  
away, it kept sneaking around, looking for another way in. It  
slowly invaded her until it knew she didn't have much strength  
left. She *had* to think it.  
What if I'm dead?  
No. No way. She wasn't dead. Of course not. How stupid, to  
think that she, Hermione, had died just like that, without putting  
up a fight. And even if something *had* happened, Harry would  
have saved her... wait, hang on now, Harry! Where was Harry?  
She hadn't seen him for... ages! And the more she thought of it,  
the badder she felt all alone in this despair-filled, cold, dark  
place which could be just anywhere on earth... even the Dark  
Lord's home!  
She had to find Harry.  
  
Her head still ached as if it would explode any  
minute. And what was even worse, there was no sign of   
Harry yet. Or Ron. Or anyone else familiar,  
unfortunately. Right now, even Snape would have seemed  
like an old, dear friend. She'd greet hime like one,  
surely, throw her arms around his neck, cry and scream  
and beg for him to help her, help her get to Harry...  
Hey now, don't lose control, she said to herself, trying  
to make the voice in her head speak in a calm tone.  
Fight. *Fight*.  
The voice wouldn't obey.  
  
"Harry? Harry, where are you?" she tested calling out  
with a shaky voice.  
"Harry?" No answer.  
"HARRY?" Her voice rose and transformed into a panicked  
scream. It grew as did her fright.  
"HARRY! Harry, answer me! HARRY! HELP, HARRY, HELP!"  
But things stayed quiet in the awful prison of darkness.  
  
There was no answer to the question of how she found  
strength to carry on, keep walking, but then again,  
she *didn't* question it.  
The dull pain in her body wasn't as threathening any  
longer, all she could focuse on was Harry. She must  
find him before... before... before what?  
Before the darker powers arose and killed both her and  
him? Before she lost her mind?  
She closed her eyes for a short second, and when she  
opened them again a scream escaped her.  
"Harry!"  
Just in front of her lay the dark form of a limp,  
unconscious body, curled up and looking very miserable.  
She ran to it, gasped and sank down.  
"On no..." She recognized the outlines of the face much too  
well; and with the jet black hair and glasses, it   
really couldn't be anyone else...  
"Oh no. Oh no, oh no, don't let this be true, don't, no,  
God, no, please, NO!" Her breath came in quick pants,  
like she'd lose it any second.  
"Harry, no, wake up!" She shook him, slapped his face with  
trembling hands, screamed his name over and over again,  
but nothing seemed to help.  
First at this second she realised she hadn't checked his  
pulse, but when she did so, it just confirmed what she was  
pretty aware of now.  
Dead. He was dead.   
"Harry, don't leave us..." she begged, although knowing  
it was useless.  
"I love you... oh, forgive me, Harry!"  
She started sobbing. The tears felt cold to her face,  
but she didn't care.  
"Harry... Harry..." She whispered his name, quietly,  
moaning, but saying it was like ice into her heart.  
  
This wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to happen like   
this. *Death* wasn't supposed to be like this; cold,  
lonely, terrible, it should appear slowly, and she  
should be by his side. Yeah, she had always pictured  
it like that, calmly, even beautiful, and sometimes  
she'd thought she'd die before him.  
It would make things so much easier.  
  
She ran her fingers through his hair, and when she did  
so she came across his scar. She let out a terrified  
gasp as it gave a flash of light, and seconds later  
a high-pitched, awful laugh came filling the air,  
suddenly; full of all the world's fright; threathening.  
The second she understood whom it belonged to, it was too  
late. A blinding flash of green light came, she heard  
herself scream, ("Noooo!") and everything went black.  
  
"H-Harry... where... Harry..."  
Her voice started before her eyes did. She heard  
it, calling the name which always seemed to be in  
mind, calling *his* name...  
She reluctantly opened her eyes, and to her fright  
saw the dead Harry still in front of her.  
Was it happening again? But - what - didn't Voldemort -  
and suddenly, it all came back to her.  
Boggart, she thought. She was fighting the boggart  
of her final exams, and as her greatest fright was -  
she didn't want to think about it - the boggart   
showed her a picture of it. Horrible.  
Slowly, she got to her feet, picking up her wand from  
the ground.  
"I probably just passed out," she muttered to herself  
under her breath. "It was some kind of illusion."  
But no illusions in the world could press down the   
wonderful feeling inside of her - relief.  
  
After turning the boggart down, she stood for a few  
seconds, pondering this. She didn't know for how long  
she'd been in here - probably just the normal time -  
but she felt a sudden fear someone had heard her cries.  
What if Harry - ?  
Then, an idea came to her. Professor McGonagall. Of   
course. Her head of house was the solution.  
So, after wiping off a shaky smile from her face, she opened  
the door, and ran out screaming -  
  
"I-It was Professor McGonagall! -"  
  
END  
  
Ok, don't know how all that copes with the original  
story, pretty bad and weird, but you said you wanted  
a sequel to my other H/H story.... :) Might as well write  
another one, if you want me to... 


End file.
